Gone to America

Spoiler Warning
I’ve kind of given away the ending, but to be honest it’s not a spy thriller or a whodunnit so knowing what happens probably won’t spoil your enjoyment (or otherwise). I just thought I’d let you know.

I didn’t particularly have any interest in seeing this film. Vanessa had raved about it, but Vanessa had been planning to see Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason , so I wasn’t going to assume that just because she liked it I would like it. But I ended up going. It wasn’t my idea. I thought, from seeing the trailers, that the film would be cheesy and twee, with some too-obvious heartstring pulling.

And it was, and it did. But, somehow, it worked. I went from “Oh, that’s corny. That doesn’t really work. That’s a bit obvious” at the beginning to “How sniffle unsubtle can you sob get? What do they boo hoo think they’re trying to bawl pull here?” by the end. This was managed with a good old fashioned bait and switch. You think they’re trying to jerk tears from you with the story of the beautiful-but-doomed young mother, her plucky but soon-to-be-orphaned boys, the failing marriage of the brilliant-but-misunderstood playwright, but they don’t.

All these things do play themselves out more or less as expected, but the emotional resonance of the film comes from a different place. The film deals with the power and danger of fantasy, of fiction. Sometimes escapism has value, and sometimes hiding from the truth can hurt you, and sometimes you’re just lying. Living with fantasy is a dangerous game, says the film – you need to know where the lines are. The only person who seems to understand this is J M Barrie himself, played by Johnny Depp, and he’s helpless to teach the others, except by example.

And this explains why the emotional climax for me of this movie, so rife with melodrama, was the moment where the boys’ grandmother, played by Julie Christie, worn and made hard by her life of tragedy and crushing responsibility, allows herself to leap out of her chair clapping her hands frantically to bring Tinkerbell back to life. Art has value. Fiction and fantasy can be healthy. Don’t deny them, but don’t deny your life either. Or something.

I cringed a couple of times, but really it overpowered me by the end. Definite welling. If you feel like a good cry in a darkened room, then this is probably a good choice for you.